Exit Wounds
by CharlieMichelle
Summary: "But just those four names alone have different people behind them... and I wonder, how do you keep them aligned? How do you know when to call me Natasha? I can't even call you Clint without worrying you'll think I crossed a line." ClINTASHA


**A/N: Holy shiznit! It's been so long since I've been on here, now for some of my readers sitting there going 'wtf why you no update glee!' I'm working on them. I honestly am, however I've recently gone through this situation where I truly believe that I may started to outgrow the wonderful world of Glee... maybe it's my own graduation right around the corner or not, all I can say is that everything will be finished before I leave for Airforce Basic Military Training in September. **

**For those of you reading this, thank you! Your support and reviews and the knowledge that someone clicked my title (even if by accident) makes me so delighted to see that my stuff is being acknowledged! Some background on this; it was originally posted on tumblr and I got so much positive feedback that I just _had_ to post it on here. Keep in mind that I haven't read an Avengers comic book since I was about twelve, my mother thought I 'grew out' of that 'stage'. I did however see the movie so that's why I'm going to consider it movieverse!**

**Disclaimer: As always I will proclaim my undying love for the amazing men who wrote these comics and inspired such a fantastic movie, however I can take no credit in that undying love... for I do not own The Avengers. Or Clint. Or Natasha. **

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"Nat..." He whispered mostly to himself as he watched them her lifeless body on a medical table. Bruises, cuts, and what looked like burns lined her body from what he could see, but the killer sight was that her eyes were closed and she had a soft smile.

Who had managed to knock her off her feet so well? Who had managed to inflict that sort of physical pain on her? Who had managed to catch her off her guard? "Agent Barton."

He looked up to see Maria Hill walking towards him; "I see my partner made it back from her mission." The sentence has a lot of heavy sarcasm and right now Maria just doesn't have the time to deal with it, bigger fish to fry in a more compressing time span.

"Fury has a mission for you."

Clint shook his head, "... you're fucking serious right now? Agent Romanoff is in there right now practically laying on her death bed."

Maria raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow before ushering him along. "I can assure you Agent Romanoff is going to make a full recovery, however Fury finds that you'd be more qualified for this job."

"I'm not leaving." Clint was still walking with her however, not for the missions sake but for his own. If he sees her on that table he could lose it and that wouldn't pretty. "Give it to Rogers or something."

"I see the way you look at her and I know that it's against most of SHIELD's policy for me to let it go and not separate you two on a permanent basis." He stopped short behind Maria with a questioning look; "Don't play that game Agent Barton... I am one of SHIELD's top Intel agents and I'm still a female. I still hope for happy endings."

Clint let out a breath and noticed his stance, hands on the hip and legs spread apart before looking down and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's the mission Hill?"

"How badly do you want to kick the bastards ass who laid a hand on Romanoff?" He's interested now she can tell be the way he inches his head up and smirks. "That's why Fury wants you to take this mission, you'll get it done regardless of drive."

"Fuck me."

"No thank you Agent Barton." She smirked as she lead him to Fury. As she watched Agent Barton process the information given to him she had to admit he's handling it a lot better. Knowing that Romanoff was only an hours drive away in a small town just outside of Chicago, hearing how the man who managed to both figuratively with her mission and literally beat her was a former member of SHIELD's 'Dust Bowl' operation back in the mid nineties.

Rory Cassalona was his name, shady if you asked Hill. Nobody did. However in the time periods of 2001 (directly after the attacks against the nation) up until 2003 Cassalona was leaking important information to some sources that shouldn't be reckoned with. Operation 'Dust Bowl' was to clean sweep the mid west with nothing but SHIELD personnel including families of which and close personal assets. A selfish operation that was effective until Cassalona dropped from the operation claiming that actions were unjust. Hill would never agree out loud, nor would Fury, or Coulton but Cassalona was completely correct. The entire mission was selfish.

So the agency dropped it. Cassalona took a vow and a quick but uncertain memory swipe and now here they are in 2012, mostly all new agents of the time are well grown seniors (herself included) most of them though of Cassalona as a blank page, a simple Intel agent who happened to be one of the leading agents in 'Dust Bowl'. The information he leaked would start government revolts, that much was almost for sure.

Romanoff's mission was simple. Put him out of service. She should have easily had that man dead within the first twenty four without surveillance, however she didn't. Somehow he managed to get her alone and beat her. In all honesty she couldn't say what the extent of Romanoff's injuries were, looks are sometimes worse then truths.

"...you understand your assignment Agent Barton?" Hill looked over at the archer, he had a deadly look in his eyes but it was covered with determination. When the archer nodded briskly Fury actually cracked a smile; "good."

When she heard the knock on her door she assumed it was Maria Hill bringing her another meal or maybe just some form of physical contact. Either way she was unenthusiastic about answering the door, human contact had not been a strong point in the weeks that followed her failed mission.

The questions still haunted her, where had she gone wrong? When had she gone wrong? Was she really losing her touch in the field? Had the nightmares and endless debts finally weighed her to be useless? The knocking persisted and she soon realized that her unexpected and uninvited guest was just as persistent and pushy as the ever so famous Hawkeye.

She paused before answering thinking about the man behind the name. Clint Barton, her savior, the only reason she's alive today, her best and only friend, her partner... the list could go on and on but it always ended with a short everything. When the realization hit her she started asking for solo missions, pissed him off of course, but the less time she spent with him the safer her mind and heart was as well as his.

"I thank you for your concern Agent Hill but I'm not hungry." She didn't look up when she answered because she expected to be handed a meal tray and shoved back into the room with the smaller woman following right behind. As soon as she opens the door she realizes how weak her sense have become since her 'ambush'.

Had she really not sensed that it was indeed Clint Barton pounding on her door with a fury in his eyes and an unexplained amount of injuries to his body? Had she really not sensed the only man that's she's ever been remotely close enough to let in and what she assumed was mutual on his end? "Barton?"

She's afraid to call him by his first name because even though the Black Widow fears nothing and no man she fears pushing it too far with this man. She fears many things from this man and one of them is him leaving her side for good. "You look like shit Natasha."

"So this is a serious conversation." He only ever uses her real name when it's serious, it's like an unstated rule among themselves. "Please come in."

He wouldn't have waited for an invite, he'd let himself in. He always did as soon as she opened the door but the sight of her shocked him. Dark circles under her eyes, bandages up her left arm, bruises lingering on her face and neck. She was wearing simple sweat pants and a tank top but there was enough of a gap between the two that he could see the laceration diagonally across her torso dipping into her pants. It made him angry all over again.

"They say you haven't left your room since you got of the infirmary a week ago." He'll start off simple before plunging into the never ending mind and life of Natasha Romanoff; "is that true?"

She stiffly nodded as she sat down in a chair at the small table across from her small bed in her seemingly too small room, she hated small spaces. Small rooms to be exact, it always made her uncomfortable, so why hasn't she gotten out yet? "Guess that means you haven't eaten in a week then either."

She head the bitterness in his mouth as he makes the speculation. "No." She said it softly playing with the tattered edge of her bandage. "Agent Hill brings me meals every day... usually one big one after dinner."

"That doesn't mean you eat them." He grumbled before sitting down on her bed, the sheets are still tucked under the corners which means she wasn't sleeping when he knocked, but she should have been it's passed midnight. "Don't lie to me Tash..."

She smiled that small smile that means she's about to throw him completely off guard, but no matter how he prepares himself she always manages to do it; "you have so many nicknames for me... Nat, Tash, Widow, sometimes I wonder how you keep them straight."

"What do you mean? You're name is Natasha, everyone is entitled to shorten a name."

She shook her head at his antics and he thought it was about the most adorable thing ever, until she opened her mouth and ruined the moment; "...no. You call me Natasha when something's really wrong with me or you, you call me Nat when we're separated for a while and you haven't seen me, you call me Tash when you want me to tell you what's wrong, and you call me Widow so that if our enemy is listening in on us while we're on a mission together they know who they're facing.

"But just those four names alone have different people behind them... and I wonder, how do you keep them aligned? How do you know when to call me Natasha? I can't even call you Clint without worrying you'll think I crossed a line."

He was leaning on his elbow and forearm on his knees and his face was directed at her and only her, astounded. "That's fucking bull shit Romanoff."

"I forgot her..." She started to mumble and stare off into space towards the entrance to the entirely too small of a bathroom when he stands straight and slams it shut.

"They're the same person!" She jumped then looked down at the table. Her fingers were skittish. "Damn it look at me! Natasha, you're Natasha Romanoff, you're my partner, my best friend... no matter what name I call you or when you'll always be my Natasha." It's probably the sweetest thing he's said to her within the last year or so, so she doesn't argue.

"I'm so sorry..." He has no idea where that came from, because one minute she's going on about her identity never matching up and now she's apologizing. "... I'm so sorry that because of my stupidity you'll have to face a consequence."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked as he kneels in front of her, he's desperately trying to get those eyes to look at him just for one second. "Natasha what happened? Don't lie to me, don't soften it for me, just... I need you to tell me what happened on that mission."

She still wasn't looking at him but she nodded and shrugged; "It was supposed to be easy, guy was a perfect target. Predictable. I was supposed to stand in as a foreign exchange college student working as a bartender at the pub that Cassalona was at once a week. Every Tuesday.

"One night him and two of his goonies, who I've never seen before, happened to be sitting at the bar. They were trying to rile me up but I ignored them. They were talking about SHIELD and how they let a dangerous criminal involved. I've never met the other men so I didn't know who they were... if they were anybody."

"What did they say?" He asked, still kneeling but his hand is slowly inching towards hers.

"They talked about me, well Black Widow, how much fun it'd be to turn me over to their allies, how much fun it'd be to turn me over... I continued on, I've heard it all before until they mentioned you. It was a little slip, something the normal couldn't catch I twitched while pouring a beer. Not a single drop left the glass but the movement was there and Cassalona caught onto it."

His fists clenched as he looked away and let out an unsteady breath; "keep going Tash."

"I can't remember how it happened, one minute I was going up stairs to my room above the bar and the next I was running down the alley after getting down he fire escape. They were all so predictable so I did my thing, but what was normal for them was predictable for me to pick up... it was easy for them to spot me under that same theory."

She's not crying, he's proud of her because that shows strength but he's concerned because that means she's either really not upset or she's holding it back so she can deal with it alone. She feels like she has to, deal with it alone that is. "What did they do to you?"

She chuckled darkly and turned her hands over palms up in her lap. "Burnt my palms." He hissed as he took the hand undamaged and inspecting it. "That hand was lucky, minor burn. They whipped my knuckles, kicked me, punched me. Dragged a dull blade diagonally across my stomach, not deep enough to cause damage but shallow enough to create the worst burning sensation I'd ever feel."

He wanted to kill them all over again. "Keep going Tash... don't back down on me." He lightly gripped the hand he was inspecting and brought it to his mouth, its a small little chaste kiss that is meant to offer comfort.

"He stabbed my shoulder, tried to kill me by suffocation... then he took pictures of me. I was naked and on the ground and one of his men was about to... to..." She finally broke. She bent over and he was right there pulling her off the chair and into his lap as he holds her head on his shoulder. It's bruised and maybe even bleeding a little but he can't let her go.

"I'll kill them again. I swear it." She shook her head and contains herself. She doesn't cry often and never for long but when she does it's a whirlwind of tears and sound. It's a moment before Clint can control himself that he demands he most important answer; "... tell me they didn't do anything."

"I was knocked out before anything happened, I woke up in our medical unit. Rape kit was used and they found negative signs of forced penetration, tearing, the works. So... no... I don't believe so." She's crushed to his chest again.

He just wants to keep her crushed against his chest for the next fifty years at this point, afraid that if he lets go she'll pull back into the shell that this organization has made, he's never been more sick of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

Only his protagonist attempts only lasted so long before she started to pull back to which he wasn't so fond of, "Nat, baby, I just need you stay put." He kissed the top of her head and kept his hand busy making movement in her hair, trying to keep busy. "Please." He sounded so desperate it should repulse her but right now she's ok with just sitting still in his arms.

"I wasn't sure what to do Clint…" It's the first time, officially, that they aren't on a mission where she uses his name and it sounded wonderful to him, but at the same time he was aware that the situation on his hands was not that he's never heard his first name before. "…I'm asking for a transfer."

Even though they're still sitting on the ground he could feel his muscles going rigid on their own accord. "No." He said it with such malice in his voice that she actually jumped against him. "Fucking no Natasha. Don't do this, don't pull away and pretend it'll go away simply by moving your fucking position."

"It's the only way Clint!" She pulled back and stared at him, her eyes still red and her face still bruised. He has a momentary lapse of what's going on and gently touches one of the bruises across her hairline where there's some blood.

"It's not." She nodded to fight him but he wouldn't let her and captured her face in his hands. "It's not. Deep down you know that… you know that whatever happened on your last mis-" He wished he could have finished because what she did next stunned him to the point where he forgot everything he was going to say.

Natasha Romanoff finally managed to get what she wanted. Silence from his truths and the taste of his lips against hers, it was the most bittersweet thing she's ever tasted. This would be her only chance because come sunrise tomorrow morning she was leaving, she was going back to Russia if it killed her (it could in this field) and she wasn't going to look back. She wasn't going to become the compromised weak link that she read about in trashy novels. She wasn't going to be the one needing saving on a mission, she wasn't going to recoup after every assignment because some bastards found her weakness.

He was kissing her back for a decent amount of time, in reality it was mere seconds, before pulling away just enough so that his lips could graze the tip of her nose. "What's going on with you Tash?" He doesn't sound in the least bit concerned, damned pleased even but there's still some worry etched into his actions. The way his hands are gently resting on her cheeks, one hand avoiding the fist sized bruise by being placed on the side of her head.

"They knew my weakness." He raised his eyebrows but doesn't say anything as he makes eye contact a silent way of saying 'continue', "I refuse to be the one who's weakness is her partner, I refuse to put you in that kind of danger not after everything you've done for me. It shouldn't have happened and I'm so desperately sorry that it did. I swear Clint I never meant for it to happen." She's never apologized this much before, not for the injuries he's sustained that were meant for her, not for the arguments she's instigated.

"Slow down, slow down!" She as still rambling but stopped when his one hand covered her mouth. Her eyes gave every emotion away, the dark circles the red tint, but most importantly the sincere apology in them: "I'm not following you here Tash, you're going have to dumb this down for me. What are you sorry for?"

He slowly removed her hand by simply cupping her lower jaw his thumb gently going back and forth on the bruised skin. "I'm sorry for breaking one of SHIELD's biggest rules. I'm sorry for putting you in unnecessary danger for so long, and most of all I'm sorry that I fell in love with you."

The three second gap to let her words connect were enough to send her flying out of his arms and locking herself in her bathroom. She was going stoic on him, she was going cold, she would walk back out and pretend none of that happened and start packing a bag. "So that's why you've been taking solo missions…"

Professionally and coolie she responds through the thin door; "It was the logical thing to do Agent Barton." Oh hell no, he thought, he was not having that. She wasn't going to say that then throw Agent Barton around like it's his name… he disregarded the fact that it is.

"That was fucking stupid." He hoped this worked.

The thin door slips open and she's standing there, in her loose sweat pants and tank top, with her hands on her hip and the fire back in her eyes. "I'm sorry?" She asked in a dangerously low voice, a small bit of an accent slipping out. "I did what I had to do to keep you safe. That's why I'm transferring… for you!"

He's had enough of the floor so he stood, leverage was everything with her. If her opponent could make her feel like she was on the lower end she'd calculate her plans again and she'd take things on a slower course, that's what he wanted. "You think that sending yourself on suicide missions, alone I may add, is the answer to you discovering romantic feelings towards me?"

"Yes." She was crazy, he knew that already, but this was a whole level for Natasha Romanoff. "Agent Barton it's been three years since our first partnered job, ever since we worked together. I respect you, no you already know that I love you, but after Fury finds out he'll separate us anyway."

"Hill won't let him." He didn't realize he said it until he realized they went almost several seconds with silence. "Agent Hill wouldn't let him do that, I'm the only constant in your life and she's not stupid Tash. Where you go I go that's how it's been from day one."

It's the sweetest thing someone's ever said to her, ever, and it's that reason exactly why she can't accept that for a suitable answer. "Well Agent Barton, it's a little late to go tell Agent Hill my plan. Fury already has all the transfer applications filed and accepted. I leave on the first flight out tomorrow morning."

He stalked over to her, he finally had enough. She wasn't going to do this, not now and not to him. She wouldn't be able to function without him and he damn well knew it so did she. She'd get worse, those bags they wouldn't go away, those nightmares that he knows keep her up every once in a while won't leave, and her drive would never be the same.

When he's a breath away he whispered something: "the bastards that thought they could touch you are dead." It caught her off guard completely and she's sending him this look of pure confusion. What the hell is he talking about? "I saw you in the medical unit, bloody and bruised. Hill came over and mentioned a mission but I argued for a decent amount of time. I wasn't about to leave while you staid alone recovering from whatever it was that happened to you, but when she told me that this mission was to take down the bastards in charge of putting you in bandages I jumped for it."

"Why though? It's not your burden!" He'll never be sure what compelled him to do so, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her to him maneuvering so that he's sitting on the edge of the bed and she's awkwardly sitting on his lap. "You can't do that every time I get hurt… it's irresponsible and risky and plain stupid!"

"I like when you call me Clint." Again she's caught off guard, "I like it because it makes me feel like we're not just robots under someone else's control. I feel closer to you."

"That's really very nice, Clint, but I need to pa-" He shoved her head down on his shoulder and smoothes his hand over her hair a couple of times.

"You need sleep." He muttered. "Sleep is all you need sweetheart, you aren't going to Russia. I wouldn't let you, you know why?" She was fiddling with the zipper of his jacket content to let him over power her just this once while mumbling an almost silent why. "You're my weakness Natasha."

She wanted to bolt upright and smack him, but he knew her too well and before she could do anything he was hovering over her while she was laying on her mattress. "Clint…" She's unsure of what was going to happen and her eyes told him as much, "what are you talking about?"

He started to mindlessly tuck her in, he's almost positive that she never got tucked into bed as a child, at least he had that liberty once or twice. "I'm saying that you're my weakness. I'd go after any idiot that is willing to lay an aggressive hand near your body. I'd go into any situation with you, but I can't fucking stand going on these solo missions wondering if you're safe."

"Even when I'm not there I'm a distraction." She stared him in a defeated matter but he mildly scolds her mumbling 'No, no' over and over again as he sits himself on the edge of the bed again his fingers pushing hair away from her face.

"You're not a distraction sweetheart, you're a human." She smirked at this but it didn't reach her eyes, not the way it normally would have, "I work better with you, I have a drive to keep you safe but I can't do that if you're in Russia and I'm here in Northern Colorado."

"Maybe it's better that way." His hand is rest on her cheek as he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Never." He muttered, his lips still pressed against her forehead before drawing back, "I may not say I love you, yet, but I'll say that without you in my life as my partner, my friend, MY constant I'm not going to function right either."

She had no argument so he felt the need to press his lips lightly against hers. "What does this mean?" She whispers huskily, her eyes are clouded over, she's tired. He can see it and feel it because she stopped fighting.

"It means that we go by day, we'll figure something out Nat." She starts to turn her body to her uninjured side, facing the wall, but he wants to see her face again, "I'm not going anywhere Natasha, you're going to sleep and when you wake up you're going to tell Fury to dismiss the transfer."

"I understood that but my shoulder is throbbing…" He quickly helped her move, it resulted with him sitting against the wall her bed was against so that way his thigh was supporting her back, his hand on her head just making gentle movements. "I needed to hear that Clint."

"I needed to say it." She was delaying the process of her sleeping, he could tell, "Go to sleep Tash."

Two months later the two assassins were walking through the doors of SHIELD both equally bloody and bruised, leaning on each other. "Well that was a HUGE success."

"Your sarcasm was dually noted." Her arm is wrapped around his waist with his arm wrapped around hers. He was taking on most of her weight. "I just want to shower and sleep."

"Don't you mean go to the infirmary then shower and sleep?" She shook her head no and glared at the archer attached, literally, to her hip. "You have to get your side looked at Tash." The way he said her name made her heart swell and an almost impossibly bright smile spread across her face.

"If my side has to get looked at so does the injury on your ass." He paled and sent a dirty look at his partner, his friend, his future wife (whenever they decided to make it official). "I know all about it Archer Boy."

"Welcome back you two!" Maria Hill walked over to them about to call for a medical group when Clint bites out that they'll have the paperwork to her by tomorrow and asked if the debriefing could be moved until tomorrow afternoon. "Of course… I'll let Fury know." They were both limping away her free hand pressed against her side and his pants glowing?

"Sometimes I wonder why I let you get your way sometimes Agent Hill." She jumps at looks at Fury. "None the less, they work ten times better and they stopped clogging my medical wards."

"Of course sir, but if I may ask," she paused and looked at him strangely, "what way did I get?"

"Well now that would be classified information." She nodded none the less and let it go but she swore she heard him say afterwards while walking away: "Everyone secretly hopes for a happy ending, I just so happened to give them one."

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**A/N: Please let me know if there are any horrendously huge mistakes, typically that would be spelling of character names, my perspective of the character etc;. Thank you all so much for reading I hope you enjoyed, please leave a review I enjoy reading them all (including flames because what's life without a little criticism?) stay safe everyone! **

**-CharlieMichelle**


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